The Colonel's Spinster: A Regency Romance (Tragic Characters in Classic Literature) Read online

  “Until she tires of my cousin and sends her back to Manchester,” Fitzwilliam muttered darkly, knowing how his aunt’s favour could soon change.

  “Not at all. I think she will be content, knowing that she has done her sister a great service in setting up her daughter for her future life.” Mr. Collins defended his patroness. “It is a real effort in bringing her back into civilised society.”

  “By setting me up to work in another household?” Prudence asked as she walked into the drawing room. Charlotte’s flushed cheeks showed they had heard enough of the conversation for her to be wishing they’d spent longer out of the room.

  “It will be a respectable household, of that you can be assured, Miss Bamber.” Mr. Collins smiled.

  “I would expect nothing else if I were to seek such a position. A pity I won’t be taking up my aunt’s ever-so-kind offer,” Prudence responded, steel in her now stormy grey eyes.

  “But my dear Miss Bamber, what could be better than leaving the grime of Manchester behind? I have heard reports it’s quite an unhealthy place to live,” Mr. Collins said.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear,” Prudence responded.

  Fitzwilliam stood, bowing to Charlotte. “Mrs Collins, let us leave you in peace. I am sure our aunt is expecting our return by now.”

  Nodding in understanding, Charlotte said her goodbyes and squeezed Prudence’s hand in apology.

  When the door of the parsonage was closed behind them, Fitzwilliam had to hurry to catch-up with Prudence. He didn’t say anything until they were in the confines of the Rosings parkland, and then he reached out with his hand and stayed Prudence’s progress.

  “Whoa there!” He smiled. “Let’s slow down a little. There is no need for us to march back.”

  Prudence turned to face him, her eyes blazing. “Who would do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Decide on a person’s future and then tell it to other people as if it’s an agreed prospect?” Prudence asked.

  “Ah. Aunt Catherine. I was not sure there if your anger was aimed at Mr. Collins or our aunt.”

  “Mr. Collins is just repeating what he has heard. He hasn’t the intelligence to form his own opinions.” Prudence dismissed the clergyman in two short sentences. “He is so in awe of Aunt Catherine that he’ll agree with anything and everything she says.”

  “He does, and he will.”

  “Exactly. But she, she has no right deciding on my future! As if I would give her permission to help me,” Prudence said forcefully.

  “In her way, she is trying to help,” Fitzwilliam said gently.

  “I do not need her help, or anyone else’s, and the quicker you lot understand that, the better for us all.”

  “You lot?” Fitzwilliam asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Prudence clenched her fists. “You know who I mean. The type of person who thinks they are doing the best for the little people in the world by deciding what’s best for them. Do you realise how arrogant and patronising that is?”

  “Every landowner has a responsibility to his or her tenants,” Fitzwilliam said.

  “I am not one of those. I have never asked Aunt Catherine’s opinion on anything to do with my life or my future. Nor would I. Ever.”

  “I’m gathering that. Take heart. She tried to interfere with Darcy’s marriage, and he is the owner of one of the largest estates in Derbyshire, so you are in good company.”

  Prudence narrowed her eyes at him. “Yet I am the poor relation, so I should be grateful of her condescension?”

  Holding up his hands, Fitzwilliam stepped away slightly. “I never suggested that, nor thought it.”

  “Is that because you are a decent sort, or just too lazy as a second son?” Prudence asked, her anger replaced with a twinkle of amusement.

  “Definitely the latter,” Fitzwilliam answered.

  “I thought that might be the case. Does nothing ruffle you deeply? Are you never thrown into a passion?”

  “It would seem you do enough of that for the both of us,” Fitzwilliam responded.

  “Nodcock.” Prudence insulted him good-naturedly. “I can see now why you’re unmarried. You will not stir yourself enough to entice the women you come into contact with.”

  “True. Although in my defence, I have little to recommend me to young women who have independent fortunes, other than my charm, wit, and personality, of course. These features leave a lot to be desired,” Fitzwilliam said, exaggeratedly pointing at his face, which was being pulled into a ludicrous expression.

  Prudence laughed. “You are ungentlemanly, sir! You should have let me wallow in my anger rather than diverting me.”

  “Then my ears would have been hurting from your rantings. As they are still stinging from Aunt Catherine’s monologues of last night, I beseech you to have pity. I rely on you providing an escape, not taking over where our aunt left off!”

  “You brute,” Prudence smiled. “In my defence I have obviously inherited my temper from my mother’s side of the family.”

  “The female side of your mother’s side,” Fitzwilliam reasoned.

  Chapter 3

  The following morning, Fitzwilliam rode out with the ladies, he on horseback while they were in a gig. He was surprised when Anne took the reins.

  “Are you a proficient horsewoman now, Anne? Is this yet another hidden talent you have kept from us?”

  “No,” Anne flushed. “But father did give me some lessons before he died. It was so long ago I never thought I’d remember, but Prudence spent time refreshing my knowledge.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” Fitzwilliam admitted. It was as if he were seeing Anne for the first time. “And who taught you, Cousin?” he asked of Prudence.

  “We might live in an industrial city, but we aren’t savages, you know,” Prudence responded.

  “That’s a disappointment, indeed,” Fitzwilliam replied.

  Prudence shook her head. “You have a fine horse there, Cousin. I now understand a little of why you are in need of further funds.”

  “So, you know good horseflesh, do you?”

  “My father is a believer that, whether you are a girl or boy, you should know your way around things to reduce the chance of being swindled. He is fond of saying that it’s stood him in good stead. I think the reality is, he’s treated me more like a boy than a girl because he was disappointed when I was born,” Prudence said with a smile.

  “I think father was dismayed to have a girl in my case, too,” Anne admitted shyly.

  “Well, I for one am glad you are not, or I’d be surrounded by blockheaded men, if our Cousin Fitzwilliam is anything to go by,” Prudence said quickly.

  “I would love to be there when you finally get to meet Darcy,” Fitzwilliam said with a grin. “I can’t wait to see the sparks fly.”

  “Will he put me in my place as Aunt Catherine tries?”

  “Oh, no,” Anne said quickly. “Darcy is not like mother, but he can be a little terrifying sometimes. Not so much now I’m not in fear of having to marry him.”

  “Is he a gargoyle to look at? Would he have frightened you to gaze at him every day?” Prudence smiled.

  “No. He is certainly handsome,” Anne admitted. “Just a little awe-inspiring.”

  “I am even more curious to meet my cousin. He sounds intriguing.”

  “I’m sure you will meet him one day, but he is not at his best when visiting Rosings,” Fitzwilliam admitted. “He also suffered from Aunt Catherine’s insistence that you two were to marry,” he said, looking at Anne.

  “She was very determined,” Anne admitted with a shudder.

  “And Darcy was equally as fixed on not being persuaded,” Fitzwilliam smiled at his cousin. “You had no real need to fear.”

  “Mother does get her way so often, though. I was very relieved to hear he was betrothed to Elizabeth.”

  “Yes. It is a good match in every regard.”

  “Families are very interesting,” Prudence smiled.
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  “Aren’t they just! What other adventures can we have while you’re with us?” Fitzwilliam asked of Prudence.

  “Are there any dances to attend? I do love dancing,” she admitted wistfully.

  “Westerham is only five miles away, and they have a monthly assembly,” Anne said.

  “We should go!” Prudence said.

  “Mother would never agree to it. I might catch cold if I were out so late,” Anne responded.

  “Do you go to assemblies only in the summer?” Prudence asked.

  “I don’t go at all,” Anne admitted.

  Prudence exchanged a look with Fitzwilliam but said nothing.

  On their return journey, they received a wave from a member of staff who was walking along the lane and who had stopped at the sound of a vehicle approaching. Anne slowed the horses at his greeting.

  “Good morning, Mr. Huxley. This is my cousin, Miss Bamber,” Anne said, a blush tinging her cheeks. “This is my mother’s steward,” she said to Prudence.

  “Good morning, Miss Anne. It is good to see you outside,” Mr. Huxley said. “I’m just making my way to the house to see Lady Catherine now.”

  “Oh, you won’t tell her you have seen me, will you?” Anne panicked.

  “Not at all, Miss Anne. No reason to trouble Lady Catherine with such a trifling matter.”

  “Thank you. That is very kind of you,” Anne blushed.

  “Mr. Huxley, why don’t you take my place?” Prudence said, reaching over and pulling on the reins to make the equipage come to a full stop. “I’m not ready to return to the house quite yet, so I will walk back, and you can ride there.” Anne stiffened, but patting her cousin’s arm and giving her a reassuring smile, Prudence jumped nimbly onto the ground.

  Mr. Huxley immediately came around to the side of the carriage and bowed his head at Prudence. “Thank you, Miss Bamber. I shall enjoy the journey.”

  “I thought you might,” Prudence smiled before she set-off purposely away from the vehicle. Hearing Fitzwilliam speak to Anne, she smiled up at him as he came alongside her still on his mount. “Not playing chaperone?”

  Pausing, whilst he dismounted, Fitzwilliam grinned at Prudence. “What mischief are you up to?”

  With a feigned innocent look, Prudence batted her eyes. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Come now. You’re playing it too brown.”

  “Oh, all right. Anne might have mentioned that she thinks Mr. Huxley is handsome.” Prudence shrugged. “And he seemed very keen to take up my offer, so I think there might be a mutual attraction there.”

  Fitzwilliam laughed. “If you think Aunt Catherine would consider for a moment a romance between those two, you have learned nothing since your arrival in Kent.”

  “If they were to fall in love with each other, why not?” Prudence shrugged.

  “The heiress of Rosings, married to the steward? Now, that would cause gossip,” Fitzwilliam smiled. “Aunt Catherine would have apoplexy.”

  “People should be allowed to marry whomever they wish, especially when there are no constraints such as money. Anne will have enough funds to keep them, and Mr. Huxley obviously works hard for the benefit of Rosings. It’s a perfect match in my view.”

  “Seriously, Cousin. Even if Anne wished it to happen, she’d never have the courage to stand up to her mother to achieve what she wished. An encouragement of the scheme by any of us would only end with Anne suffering,” Fitzwilliam cautioned.

  “Then the poor girl is doomed to end her days lonely and unloved, for I cannot imagine Anne wishing to marry someone who is of a similar personality to Darcy. He might not be as bad as Anne makes out, but to her, he is terrifying. Not a good prospect in a marriage.”

  “I am sure Aunt Catherine will have started to think of a different husband for Anne, now that she has had to accept that Darcy will not be marrying her.”

  “How cold for all the parties involved.”

  “It is how things are sometimes. A business transaction to join lands or secure wealth or heritage. Love matches happen but aren’t the case in every marriage.”

  “You have said that you are one of those who cannot marry as you wish?”

  “Not if I want a good lifestyle,” Fitzwilliam admitted, but for the first time the thought of seeking out an heiress and marrying her for her money didn’t sound as appealing as it had.

  “I hope to marry for love, which is why, at five and twenty, I am single,” Prudence smiled.

  “Does your father wish you to marry? Most girls have married by the time they’re one and twenty at the latest. Many marry straight out of the schoolroom. Any older and they’re in danger of being on the shelf.”

  “Goodness me! What sort of a society do you belong to?” Prudence exclaimed. “I admit many women do tend to marry by the ages you mentioned, but I am not the only one of my peer group who is unwed. I don’t feel we are cast off as unmarriageable quite so quickly as you seem to make out those in your circles are.”

  “Has your father not encouraged you to find a husband?”

  “He wants me to marry one day, but I’m under no pressure from him to do so,” Prudence admitted. “It seems his ideas of my securing at least a viscount will come to naught though.” She laughed. “I did not realise I was an old maid. I thought I had years yet before that label was attached to me.”

  “Your father wanted you to come to Rosings in order to secure a title?” Fitzwilliam asked in disbelief.

  “Oh, take that expression off your face!” Prudence laughed. “I’m not a deluded fool and neither is Papa. We were funning with each other when he mentioned it. He had his reasons for contacting Aunt Catherine all those years ago, and I have my own reasons for visiting since our aunt issued her invitation. Neither involve securing a viscount, or any other title, for that matter.”

  “I see,” Fitzwilliam said. He couldn’t understand the feeling of relief that swept through him, but knew he was unaccountably happy at her words. It must be to do with her not being disappointed. That was it. His concern was for his cousin, wasn’t it?

  Prudence accompanied Fitzwilliam to the stables, chatting as he tended his horse, and they entered the house laughing at something or other. Lady Catherine was leaving the study with Mr. Huxley in her wake.

  “Good afternoon, Aunt,” Fitzwilliam said amiably. “And how are you this fine day?”

  Lady Catherine responded with a harrumph before leaving her member of staff and leading the way into the morning room, indicating to the pair that they should follow. Both would have liked to change their outerwear, but followed meekly, Prudence gathering the skirts of her riding habit over her arm.

  When the threesome entered the room, they saw that Anne was seated on one of the chairs near the fire, rubbing her hands in front of the flames.

  “Do you ail, Anne?” Lady Catherine asked.

  “No. Not at all. I’m just warming my hands,” she said with a reassuring smile, but there was a wariness in her expression.

  “I expect you to ensure Anne has everything she needs to prevent her coming down with a cold,” Lady Catherine said to Prudence.

  “I would not insult Anne’s intelligence by trying to tell her what to do and what not to do. There is very little difference in our ages. She would likely box my ears if I tried,” Prudence responded lightly, taking a seat closer to the window to try to avoid the oppressive heat of the room.

  Lady Catherine glared at her niece, but before she had a chance to respond to Prudence’s comment, Fitzwilliam intervened. “Aunt, I’d love the opportunity to show off you and my two lovely cousins at the next assembly in Westerham. When is it to take place?”

  “It would not be appropriate to take Anne. She would be fatigued because of the excursion.”

  “I would not, Mother, and it would be nice to go,” Anne said quickly, looking daunted at disagreeing with her mother but gaining encouragement by the reassuring look Prudence sent in her direction at the words.

  “Have yo
u put these foolish ideas into Anne’s head?” Lady Catherine snapped at Prudence.

  “Possibly,” Prudence admitted. “I asked if there was any opportunity for dancing in the area. Although I wouldn’t want Anne’s health to suffer as a result of my urge to dance.”

  “Perhaps I could escort you, Cousin?” Fitzwilliam asked of Prudence, his eyes laughing with mischief. “That way, Aunt Catherine and Anne could remain at Rosings, and we could tell them of who was in attendance and who danced with whom.”

  There was a slight pause while Lady Catherine looked with narrowed eyes at Fitzwilliam, as if assessing the seriousness of his words. She had seated herself in the largest chair in the room, her usual position, and she fiddled with the folds of her gown.

  “We shall attend the next assembly,” she said finally.

  The three occupants in the room breathed a sigh of relief.

  “But I don’t expect you to dance, Anne,” came the warning.

  “Of course not, Mother,” Anne replied obediently, but her eyes reflected the excitement she felt in attending an evening’s entertainment.

  “If I could secure the first two dances with you, Cousin?” Fitzwilliam asked Prudence.

  “That would be delightful.”

  *

  Anne was sitting on the chaise longue in Prudence’s bedchamber. Lady Catherine had put Prudence in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room, the latter’s possessions being banished to the attic until her return. The room was positioned at the rear of the house, overlooking the kitchen gardens. It was the smallest chamber on the floor, but was a floor below the servants’ rooms, acknowledging the elevated status of a companion. Anne could often be found in the chamber since her cousin’s arrival, enjoying the cosy room and warm fire.

  Prudence had been teaching Anne a few dance steps, in the hope that her cousin would be able to dance at least one dance.

  “It is very tiring,” Anne admitted, having needed to sit down to catch her breath.